


it blooms and it aches

by joybell



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Listen some messes will occur, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Slow Burn, in the beginning hehe, the both of them are idiots on both similar and separate occasions, their friend group just watches them be nutty af for a bit, those happen a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joybell/pseuds/joybell
Summary: "Frankly, Tony, I think you should move on.""And totally go against my self-destructive, self-inflicted hurtful tendencies? Absolutely not Rhodey. Pass the tequila I'm trying to wallow in my unrequited love thank you!"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first of all , thank you for taking the chance on this fic . i hope you enjoy it . i have a majority of the story planned out . tony and steve are going to go through some hot messes before they get together - but they are the end point of this story . it'll just take a minute for them to get there - they're both kinda stupid ^_^ .

“Steve. Marry me.” Tony’s horizontal on the floor and all he can see is sky blue. Damn, who said it was okay to give Steve the  _ literal  _ color of the sky for eyes? Then again, was the sky still even blue? Tony hadn’t seen it in days.

Steve laughs and extends the large Starbucks coffee in his hand meant for Tony. Tony grasps at it like a wild dog, which makes Steve laugh even louder. “You keep proposing but I’ve yet to see a ring. What’s up with that?”

“It’s 2019, Steve. Proposing with rings are a thing of the past,” Tony’s now made himself vertical! Which was a lot considering he only meant to spend, like, five minutes on the ground before resuming his research project. “Getting your friends their favorite order at Starbucks? Now that’s  _ real  _ romance.”

Steve’s smirking at him which, honestly, does something ugly to Tony’s heart that he’s quick to burn out with the delicious roast of coffee. He feels 100% more human after the first couple of chugs. That could be thanks to the scalding burn on his tongue from drinking so fast but, you know, sacrifices are made when you need to get your brain cells working again.

“If all romance took was a few surprise Starbucks then relationship advice columns would be pretty outta luck.” Steve says, sipping his own drink. And really, Tony should be listening and not focusing on the curl of Steve’s lips. Or how, when he’s done drinking, they glisten a bit from the liquid.

Tony takes another  _ loong  _ sip.

“I’d like to think coffee can cure all ailments,” Tony plops himself down on his spinny chair designated for evil genius plotting and mini existential crises and picks up a circuit board because he needs a distraction. Something to do with his hands now that he felt more human. More functional. “Do I also smell . . . a burger?”

Tony’s nostrils flare while Steve just grins his damn, knowing grin and pulls out said bag of greasy goodness. Tony drops his circuit board and spins right on over to Steve.

“Your nose is sharper than a greyhound, Tony.”

“I don’t even care that you sound like you were shat straight from the forties right now, gimmie that burger.” he snatches the bag out of Steve’s hands. Steve’s so amused right now, and Tony is so consumed by his love of fat, greasy food after several nights of not eating properly that he tears open the bag and feasts like a starved animal. He finishes the burger in seconds. Leans back in his chair with a burp, and stares blissfully up at the ceiling. “You are . . . the bestest friend I have ever had but don’t tell Pepper that or she’ll slaughter me with her acrylic nails.”

Steve’s walking around Tony’s project now. A small gray box with faint, white lines outlining it to look almost like a rubix cube. “Duly noted. This your research project?”

“Sooooorta-oh sorry. Didn’t mean to burp. Well, I did but ya know. Anyways it’s a projector, kind of. That’s the simplest way to explain it. Press the button in the middle.” Tony’s been tinkering with this technology for the past couple of days because he was sick of having to use smart boards when they barely worked as it is. He watches with pulsating glee as Steve hesitates and then, pushes the button.

Out pops the galaxy. Steve’s startled, at first. And then he’s in awe. 

“Whoa,” leaving his lips in reverence as the room is encased with the cosmos. Tony pushes himself around in his chair, donning his best narrator voice as planets move and stars burst and meteors soar across the technological, galactic sky. Steve’s utterly enamored. And Tony catches himself looking at him, rather than the stars he inputted in  _ specifically  _ because he knew Steve would come down at his lab at some point, and he’d have this exact face Tony spent hours picturing as he made this hologram.

Eyes full of wonder. Brighter than the stars. Mouth agape and head craned, swiveling his body, all broad shoulders and bulk but looking infinitely small next to an enlarged Jupiter. “God, Tony. This is-beautiful,” he whispers and it makes Tony feel chills right to his toes. He hastily goes for his coffee cup to burn down the wild, wild grin that wants to take over his face and swallow him whole.

“Thanks,” he says when he trusts his voice not to crack-because that would be horrifically embarrassing. “But it’s no biggie. Honestly—no wait why are you looking at me like that? Unpurse your lips immediately! The galaxy is just the tip of the iceberg, Steve. This box is just the beginning of how we project, send, and receive data. Imagine,” Tony’s wheeling himself around now so he orbits Saturn, hands in the air, “you’re drawing, right? For art class. And you’re trying to find references for your drawing but just seeing it 2D isn’t enough.” He spreads out his hands and crumples up the galaxy into his palms. Makes a little, holographic ball and chucks it.

Then he goes, “Interface on.” and suddenly several screens are up and at his disposal.

He waves his fingers and types in a few things and bam, there’s a huge rendering of some Greek statue that Tony doesn’t know the name of. Nor does he really care to know, frankly, because Steve is star struck again. He’s up close, right in the statue’s face. Reaching out with nervous fingers to touch. Gasping when his fingers go through the image and it shatters-or well, expands is a better word for it.

“Manipulate your fingers. Make it move like putty,” Tony instructs.

Steve stares at him for a bit and then does as he says. He takes his hands and holds it on either side of the statue and then pulls. The pieces break apart. The image follows. He exhales, and looks utterly excited. Tony’s watching Steve play more than the actual images.

The funny thing? This wasn’t even his  _ real  _ research project. It was a project, yeah. But not his main vision. This was more of a side venture. Something born from an offhand comment Steve made last week about wishing he could make what he saw on the computer screen come to real life for his drawings. Steve’s words were the seed that took root in Tony’s mind and grew into the box now showing several models in various positions. All being manipulated at Steve’s fingers. At some point he’ll change the design from a box to a chip to actual programming and wiring that’d be used in various institutions and businesses the world over-but later. Now, all that matters was seeing Steve enrapt with  _ his _ creation.

Tony takes another sip. Hoping it’ll scorch off his pleased smile.

“God, Tony. You’re a genius, you know that?” Steve’s finally finished playing with the box. He presses the button and everything disappears into nothing. Tony’s finished his coffee now and chucks it for the trash can. He misses but it’s fine because he meant to miss anyways. “Good thing you’re not trying out for the basketball team anytime soon.” 

“And put myself into a situation where I physically have to exert myself? Hell fucking no,” Tony scoffs. 

“I’m surprised you’re still down here,” Steve continues, eyes still sparkling. Fingers still fiddling with the blue lights and making constellations out of them. “Or, well, not so much surprised actually. I figured on a Friday night I’d catch you mingling at a party or throwing up in a toilet bowl before 7 pm.”

“Listen that was  _ one time  _ Steve Rogers and you know it!” Tony huffs and spins around in his chair for emphasis on how one time should not define a person’s life. “Also, I still have some more work to do. Gadgets to create. Revolutions to give birth to with my fingertips,” he wiggles his fingers in Steve’s face and Steve smacks them away with a laugh.

“Ah yes, the burden of the technological genius.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

“You should, I dunno, try to take a step outside.” Steve presses on. He takes the chair which is, really,  _ his  _ chair because he always takes the exact same one whenever he levels with Tony “Soak up some sun. Or if you want, Sharon and I are getting dinner tonight at the Thai restaurant down the street. You should join us. You  _ love  _ Thai.”

Something in Tony crumples. It turns all jagged edges, and mashed, and broken—only slightly. It’s not incapable of being fixed, but the shards. They stab. They hurt. They ache. And suddenly the galaxy seems so small and suffocating and insignificant. Tony smiles and it’s tight. Pulled too sharp at the edges. And he’s glad that he has his goggles on so Steve can’t see the slight hurt, the pain—the utterly stupid ideation of being in love with Steve Rogers who simultaneously is in love with someone else—showing clear as day in the reflections of his eyes.

Tony waves off the offer with his hand, “Nah I’m alright.” And he spins back into his work. Because focused, rhythmic, and routine tinkering is good for ignoring the ache that blooms in his chest anytime he’s reminded that his love is one-sided and unobtainable. “Rhodey wants to catch up with me at Jimmy’s later for drinks and deliciously cheap, greasy bar food so I’ll hold off till then.”

It’s a lie, though now he’s going to make it a reality for the sake of it. He knows Steve’s frowning because he can feel it. The same way he can feel when Steve’s smiling at him when he’s not looking. Because his smile was the sun but his frown was just as intense, if not more burning—peeling back layers and layers of Tony’s heavily crafted mask. Tony keeps tinkering. He keeps fiddling with wires. He hears the awkward shuffling of feet that alerts him Steve’s not taking the bait.

“But that’s not until what, another couple of hours? C’mon Tony, you need to get out. Stretch your legs. Eat.”

“I did eat. You got me a burger, remember?”

“Yeah but that won’t sustain you. Especially if you’re gonna clock, what? Another ten—”

“Seventeen—”

“ _ Seventeen  _ hours?”

Tony lifts his head up at the pitch in Steve’s voice. They’ve known each other for almost two and a half years now and it still boggles his mind that Steve gets so wound up by his haphazard work hours.

“Yes.”

“Tony—”

“—Save the mothering for later. My brain cells are no longer high functioning and can only focus on the task at  _ literal  _ hand. So,” he’s being an ass and he knows it. Steve knows it. There’s a confused wrinkle in his forehead that tells Tony he’s trying to figure out what mine he landed on to make Tony’s fangs bare and his armor come on. But what Steve doesn’t know is that it can take very little to make Tony go on the defensive. He’s an asshole by default, he just limits how much assery he has around Steve because he’s infatuated beyond belief with him.

But Steve’s taken. And he’s too good to Tony. All the damn time. And he hates that he’s so damn  _ desperate  _ for that warmth that he’ll take any offer even if it leaves him foul later.

Steve sighs and lets it drop, finally. Because Tony was this close to blaring heavy metal, which Steve  _ hates,  _ to get him out of the lab. “Alright, Tony. I’ll see you later then.”

He goes. When the door shuts, soft but deafening—louder than it actually was, because it claps Tony hard enough that he exhales as if punched in the gut—Tony pulls out his phone. He’s hot, all over. And his chest aches. And his head feels buzzy and weird. He presses Rhodey’s number and doesn’t wait long until it connects.

“Sup, man? Finally remembered about me?”

“Shut up. Drinks tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. You alright?” Tony doesn’t answer right away and Rhodey sighs. “Steve, yeah. Okay. I understand. Our usual time?”

“Stop, don’t—” Tony frowns, because the way Rhodey says Steve’s name it’s, it’s like, “—you’re pitying me.”

“Of course I am. But I get to do that as your best friend. And I will be doing that more, as well as comforting and helping you through this, at drinks later. So steel yourself, Tony, cause it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“Why are we friends? Why did I give you the privilege of being my  _ best friend  _ when you are so mean?”

“Because you’re also mean. So it’s fine when we’re both being dicks to each other. No harm, no foul.”

“I hate you, goodbye.” But he’s still going to see Rhodey at eight tonight because he needs it. And Rhodey was the best at keeping him straight. At helping him get through the haze and the hollowness.

Tony pulls up his schematics for his project using the cubes and gets back to work.

 

*

 

Jimmy’s is a small hole-in-the-wall pub about a block from campus. It’s a popular spot for the college crowd because they offer cheap drinks and cheap food that’s pretty damn good if you know what to order. Tony and Rhodey started going there back when they were 19 and Tony made them ridiculously authentic fakes that got them in every time no problem. Though they never really needed any because the security at the bar was so lax, they let even freshman come in as long as they didn’t get themselves into trouble.

They have a nice booth that was  _ their  _ booth. So much so that when they came into the place, with Rhodey shaking hands with the bouncers and Tony heading straight to the bar to flirt and schmooze themselves their first round of drinks, people occupying  _ their  _ booth were already moving out of the way. Tony slides in first, drinks in hand, because he loves being pressed right up against the back of the booth, encompassed but also able to see all the mess that goes down in the bar. Rhodey slides in beside him and makes a go for one of the shots.

They tap glasses and share their first drink of many.

“Ugh, God.” Rhodey screws up his face like a fish, slamming the shot glass down. “I hate tequila. You know I hate tequila!”

Tony laughs as the burn slides down his throat and settles. “I love tequila. So it works out.”

“That’s not how it works out, ass!”

Tony laughs a little harder. God it was so easy to be with Rhodey. To share drinks and quips and fuck around in a moderately dirty bar with moderately dirty people. Not Tony, though. Tony was the opposite of dirty, very clean. Well, dirty minded—but that could also be the tequila hitting. 

“Alright, Romeo, spill. What happened?”

“The usual,” Tony’s nursing his mixed drink a little slower than the two shots he just took. You could never rush a whiskey on the rocks. “The universe gives me Steve in all his blond glory. Steve and I do our thing—we have banter and I’m flirting and he’s laughing his fucking sweet as apple pie—”

“—Dude you really gotta stop with all the American meta—”

“—FUCKING LAUGH, don’t interrupt me in my pity rant that’s rude, Rhodes.” Tony pouts and Rhodey shrugs, bringing his drink to his lips to unsuccessfully hide his smirk. “ Anyways, we’re vibing very well as we usually do. I showed him the cube.”

“Oh my God.”

“And he loved it! You should have seen him, Rhodes! He looked so, so fucking, God he looked so beautiful.” he downs the rest of his mixed drink because he feels his eyes burning, just a little bit. So if anyone were to come by and look too close, at least he can blame it on the alcohol. “Everything was going so  _ well  _ and then Sharon!” 

“Sharon came?”

“Yes. No. Not physically but, metaphysically. Steve invited me to go out with them for… Thai food,” he purses his lips, feeling sick at the thought. Of course the universe would tease him with his two favorite things: Steve and Thai food. Only one of those things, however, he could actually obtain and enjoy and devour to his heart’s content. 

“Ah… I get it,” Rhodey says in a way that makes Tony curl his lips. “Jealousy really doesn’t age well, huh?”

“Rhodey if you’re not going to encourage my toxic behavior then I need you to go.”

“Absolutely not. This is what I’m here for. This is what you  _ need  _ me for.” Rhodey slings his arm around Tony’s shoulder and Tony leans in. The warmth of the alcohol makes him a little more pliant. “I love you, man. You know that. And you also know that this… isn't healthy. This isn’t  _ good _ . I know you guys have… history. But I think you should maybe consider putting some distance between you and Steve. At least until you get your feelings straight.” 

“Now you see, that sounds incredibly logical. Very realistic and honestly, the most healthy course of action.” Tony sniffs, nursing his drink. “However, we all know my track record with self destructive tendencies. If I could let go I would. I’ve  _ tried _ .”

In every hook up. In every tangled legs under fine Egyptian cotton sheets. In every gasp he swallows. He tries to forget. He tries to drown out the image of Steve’s smile whenever Tony makes him laugh. He tries to burn the heat off his skin left from Steve’s hands from a half hug. He tries, and he tries. He really does.  And then when it’s over. When the heat fades. When the gasps stagger off. When the bodies untangle. That’s when it hits him.

Hard, over and over, every ounce of emotion he attempted to repress erupts to the point where it grabs his throat-squeezes. To the point where breathing feels like inhaling shards of glass. 

Rhodey looks at him, boring eyes that make Tony go hot. He cuts his gaze towards the bar. It was starting to fill up now. He spots members of the football team crowding their usual spot at the front of the bar. He spots sorority girls filling in, all sporting different versions of the same outfits. He shouldn’t be wallowing. He could go immerse himself into those throngs of people and  _ live.  _ He knows all of them, to an extent. Their names? No but their faces—vaguely. And if he didn’t know them then, he could know one of them fairly intimately by the end of the night. 

He shouldn’t  _ be  _ wallowing. But it was his nature to hole himself into self-pity and honestly, an art form at this point with how well he could drown himself in self imposed hatred. It’s become an artform at this point with how well he can easily wallow. 

He came out tonight to do that but also to forget. Because his chest still stung like a bitch with the memory of the lab. Of how close he was to Steve but not in the way he craved. Not in the way that his hands ached to fiddle with Steve’s fingers rather than with circuit boards and wires. Not in the way how, when Steve smiled that childishly gleeful smile, Tony’s lips wanted nothing more than to find out what that smile tasted like. 

Tony downs his third? Fourth? Shot and tries to kill off whatever stinging sensation is crawling around in his chest with some success. 

“You look so depressing right now,” Rhodey sighs. He slaps Tony on the shoulder. His eyes are looking out towards the bar when he spots something. “Ah fuck,” he swears, moving his body to block the view. “Tony, let’s go-dance! Let’s go and  _ dance _ .”

“Dance?” he looks towards the dance floor, a slur in his words, and spots a couple of people awkwardly standing around with their drinks. One couple was gyrating  _ hardcore  _ to Billy Jean but other than that, there wasn’t much of a dance party going on. “No one’s dancing.”

“Alright then we start the party. Come on, we’re both buzzed enough that we don’t care. And I  _ know  _ you always love putting on a show.” Rhodey tugs Tony out of the booth and towards the dance floor. Tony grabs at least one more drink before he’s dragged off. 

They go for the middle of the dance floor and Rhodey starts moving. He’s a pretty good dancer, all things considered. And Tony, well, he knows how to keep a beat and hold a rhythm. He can  _ dance  _ but he doesn’t like it. However, Rhodey starts doing those dumb dance moves, pretending Tony’s a fish and he’s reeling him in with a rod. And of course, Tony shares the same dumbass brain cell as Rhodey does so he plays along. The small crowd around them laughs and the beat changes to a faster, messier beat that has Rhodey and Tony  _ moving _ . 

Soon, the dance floor fills with more and more people. Bodies pressed together. Rhodey gets swept up by a girl (Beth? Laura? No, no it’s definitely Beth she looks like a Beth Tony thinks off handedly, as Rhodey works his magic and his moves) but Tony’s still dancing. Not really hoping for someone to come and not really searching for someone anyways. He’s losing himself in the music when it happens. When, by pure horrific chance, his eyes cut across the bar and he sees Steve walk in with Sharon by his side. 

She looks great. She  _ always _ looks great. Sharon was beautiful inside and out—a real firecracker of a woman who could keep any man on their toes and then some. Steve was glowing, laughing at something the bouncers had said. Tony catches Sharon taking Steve’s hand and guiding him to the bar where they share a kiss, two kisses, three and four. 

Every kiss feels like a punch to his gut. He stops dancing to stare. 

It aches—the feeling of watching something you love be so far out of your grasp. To see something you love being utterly consumed and tangled in wires outside your creation. 

It  _ aches. _

So he does what he normally does when the aching becomes so loud he feels like he’s going to combust. He drowns himself in the nearest body he can find. A beautiful girl with dark hair and dark eyes and dark skin. She comes close and he allows her to. Whispers in her ear some charming joke that makes her glow. 

They dance. He makes her laugh and she makes him smile and suddenly it’s not much longer that the two are slipping out into the alley way to make out. 

Even less time to have her hand down his pants, stroking his cock while she moans his name into his mouth to be swallowed. 

I’ll decimate this feeling, he thinks as she puts her fingers in his hair to tug him forward. Obliterate the aching hole in my chest, he thinks once more when her cherry red lips whisper in against his, “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” is the breathless response that tumbles forward before their lips meet again. 

_ Forget. _ He just wanted to, for a moment, forget that he was horribly in love with the unfortunately taken Steve Rogers. 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony feels like death. Though that’s nothing new. He takes a deep inhale, rousing from sleep, and smells the fresh roast of coffee. His body rises as if pulled by puppet strings by the smell. He reaches out blindly and after a few squeezes of his fingers, the universal sign for gimmie, he has coffee in his hands.

“Extra dark roast, no milk?” his eyes aren’t even open but he’s drank about half the cup so far. Enough to know exactly who it was that entered his room. “Pepper you guardian angel. The love of my life.”

“Morning to you too, Tony. Please put on some pants.” Pepper says. Tony opens his eyes and finds her sitting on the edge of his bed. The girl he slept with last night was long gone, though he didn’t  care much about that. He scratches at his chest, glancing down at his lack of dress. 

“Pep can’t you see I’m dealing with a hangover? Have some respect-some patience.” 

“Wow even hungover you still manages to be a drama queen. Incredible. Pants.”

He huffs and finishes the rest of his coffee. There was no point trying to argue with Pepper. She was the captain of the Mock Trial team for a reason. Never hurt to try though. Tony manages to climb out of bed and stumbles around. His head feels a little achy. Drinking water first would have been better. But if Tony was never something-it was practical. 

Sweatpants on and water in his hands, because Pepper is a saint who always puts Tony’s needs before Tony remember he has needs, he feels a little more human. He should get some food in him but that can wait till after. He sits down next to Pepper who’s drinking her own coffee and Tony feels a little small. 

But then again that’s because Pepper’s a pretty big presence-especially when she was about to start giving Tony a piece of her mind. 

“She wasn’t blond this time, so that’s an improvement.” she says slyly with the cup against her lips. 

Tony nearly chokes on his water. Coughing, he shoots her a glare. 

“No seriously. I’m being so serious. I'm impressed.” she’s so good at playing poker face that it takes Tony’s trained years of studying Pepper to see the amusement in her eyes, and at the corners of her smirk. 

“I take it back. You’re a demon.”

“Rude to say to the person who comes to take care of you after your partying escapades. Rhodey’s okay, by the way.” Pepper continues, unbothered. “He went home by himself and made friends with his Uber driver. He said to let him know when you’re conscious and not throwing up, if you did.” 

“Wow we love an effective and invested support system,” Tony comments drily. He flops down on his bed, reaching out for his bedside table where his phone is. He checks for messages. A few from Rhodey showing pictures of his eventful Uber ride. Some from Clint who apparently had checked Tony’s snap story and was  _ not  _ happy with not getting an invite to Jimmy’s. 

And then one from Steve. He doesn't have the heart to check that one yet and dropped his phone back on the bed after responding to Clint and Rhodey. For Rhodey he shares mad envy for not being a part of such a magical moment. And for Clint he tells him to suck it. 

Tony flops right back into his bed, lying on his back to ruminate in the moment. He should definitely clean his sheets because they smelled like sex and felt like sex and that was just gross. That required effort and energy that Tony wouldn’t have for another . . . 12 hours. So he makes a mental note to remind himself in 12 hours to make that happen. And makes another mental note on top of that to complete his A.I. project. So he could stop taking up space in his brain with all those useless mental notes. 

Pepper was eerily quiet. And that usually meant she’s contemplating. Debating on what to say to him that hasn’t already been said that would knock him off the path towards self destruction. 

Finding such words must be incredibly difficult. 

“Can we lie on the floor?” she says after a few minutes. 

Tony exhales, sharply, but doesn’t protest. Gets onto the floor with little pretenses. Pepper follows suit. They lay on the floor together. Shoulders faintly brushing, eyes both trained on Tony’s ceiling. 

“I’m so glad I went for plush carpeting.” Tony says. Silence makes him uncomfortable.  “Makes these moments all the more comforting.” 

“It’s nice cushioning for unwanted but necessary doses of reality, for sure.” Pepper sighs and Tony finds himself bracing for impact, slightly, for her next words. “She was cute.” she starts slowly, and Tony shoots her a questioning look. “Sophia, that was her name by the way. I had a few Econ classes with her. She’s really smart. Very driven, and knows who she is and what she wants.” and then, another beat. “She’s also single.”

“I mean I would hope so considering we slept together. Then again,” he snorts, “wouldn’t be my first time wrecking a home am I right, Pep?” he goes to nudge her shoulder but it’s a little hard when you’re laying on your back. Pepper shoots him a death glare sharp enough to slice. “Right. Yeah, no joking. Sorry, defense mechanism-and coping mechanism-and-”

“Tony, shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

Pepper rolls onto her stomach, legs up in the air, red hair falling to frame her face. Tony thinks in this moment that he must be ridiculously attractive if he’s able to attract equally ridiculous attractive individuals to be his friend. 

“I’m going to be short because I’ve been saying this ever since your tragic love for Steve started-you  _ need _ to let go. You need to move on. That’s the only way it’s going to hurt less. I know Rhodey mentioned it last night-”

“-You guys talked about our private guy-to-guy conversation?” Tony asks. He finds it within himself to look mildly affronted. Pepper fixes him a cool gaze that makes him shrink. “Right. Yes. Of course, the holy trinity of friendship is not sacred to side conversations made in the dead of night in the comfort of our bar booth-also that’s it that’s all I’m saying I’m really shutting up now.” 

“Love that growth,” Pepper continues with a smirk. “Anyways, as I was saying, it’s time to move on. Steve’s happy with Sharon. Sharon’s happy with Steve. You, and yes it’s you, are putting yourself into a situation  _ you  _ have control over being in. No one but yourself is forcing you to keep pining after Steve. And honestly, it’s getting a little pathetic.”

“Ouch,” that one stings. It’s not like he hasn’t called himself pathetic, of course, either during his moments of dark self reflection and criticism. Still didn’t hurt any less hearing it from someone else-especially Pepper. 

“So, and this is the last time I’m telling you this and I love you dearly or else I wouldn’t put up with your shit-distance. You need  _ distance  _ from Steve until you’re . . . okay.” 

Until he’s  _ okay.  _ What did that even mean, really. The state of being okay feels like a fallacy and a farce. A paradise stasis with no actual probability of being real. Tony  _ is very much okay.  _ At least that’s what he keeps telling himself. When he’s getting good grades and going (somewhat regularly) to class. He’s even made leaps and bounds with his personal projects! Not so much the ones for school because that’s third in his hierarchy of needs but, he’s being functional. He’s being human. 

Why couldn’t he hang onto a simple crush? Because it’s not a simple crush, Tony checks himself immediately as the question pops into his head. _ Because if it was a simple crush I’d get over it. I wouldn’t think about it for more than a few hours. I wouldn’t try to find comfort in the bottom of a glass or in between the legs of someone else.  _

Tony releases the longest sigh in the history of sighs to ever be sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“I know.”

“God, Pep. I-”  he scrubs a hand over his face. “I can’t, do distance. I mean-I can I’m very good at the escape and run trick but I can’t with Steve. I could never-”

“I know. I know it’s hard,” a comforting hand comes to touch Tony’s shoulder. And Pepper’s looking at him with a sort of warm understanding that twists his stomach. “You don’t have to do it today. But… sometime I want you to feel comfortable enough to take a step back, really look at how it’s affecting you, and take care of yourself the way you  _ should _ . That’s all.” 

His throat feels tight. His eyes burn. Tony swallows thickly behind whatever’s crawling up his throat, and turns to lie on his side. He squeezes his eyes tight. Pepper’s hand is still on his shoulder. His chest burns. His throat’s  _ still tight _ . 

He takes a shuddering breath, “Thanks.” he croaks. 

Pepper doesn’t say anything. Just continues to be there, warm and present. 

  
  


*

 

Pepper leaves in the afternoon after the two of them go out for brunch. Tony offered to make her his world famous chocolate pancakes but Pepper declined. 

“My hair almost didn’t make it the last time you made chocolate chip pancakes. I’m not going through that pain again.” 

Before she left she placed a kiss on Tony’s cheek and told him her phone would be on ring all day. So if he needed anything-anything at all-he shouldn’t hesitate to reach out to her or Rhodey. He told her not to worry. That not even the self-proclaimed king of horrible self management skills would forget the necessities for basic human function. 

She didn’t look all that convinced, but they both knew better than to go at it.  

His morning goes by pretty slowly. He showers and gets some real food in his stomach then puts himself to work in his room. He has his tablet out and a bunch of screens projected by the cube floating around him with data reports. His phone still remains untouched beside him. If he's being honest, he's avoiding texting Steve back. He's read the message, sure. But he hasn't opened the thread yet because Steve has read receipts on and he's not about to start that mess (again). 

But that doesn't last long. 

_ STEVE ROGERS IS CALLING . . . _ flashes all over his blue screens, replacing his data reports. "Fuck!" he jumps, heart rate spiking as the ringing tone continues blaring through out the room. Tony has half a mind to just end the call right there and then. He's done that before too and how that little moment ended wasn't pretty. 

Against his better judgement, he picks up the call. 

"Tony. Hey,” Steve’s stupidly perfect face pops up on Tony’s screen. His hair’s all tousled and his cheeks are flushed, probably from his usual morning run Tony assumes. Tony doesn’t think about how it’s a  _ little  _ cute that Steve’s first reaction was to call and check up on him after a run. Or how Tony was his first thought after finishing a mundane task, because having those kind of thoughts were utterly dangerous and destructive. 

But Tony thinks them anyways. 

“You didn’t answer my text so I decided calling instead would confirm if you were dead or not from last night.” 

“Wow how considerate of you, Steve.” Tony makes sure to keep his tone even, despite how stupidly happy he got from Steve  _ being a friend  _ and having  _ genuine concern  _ over his well being. “As you can see, I’m very much alive. Pepper came over and resurrected me from the dead.” 

“That’s awesome. So that means you can come grocery shopping with me, yeah?”

“No I don’t think that’s what that means, Steve. I think you’re  _ projecting _ .” 

“Isn’t that what _you_ normally do?” Steve’s walking, somewhere. And his smirk hangs off sloppy from his lips. And Tony narrows his eyes when he starts seeing familiar buildings. Buildings that are near his apartment.

“Steve, where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” he sing songs and then the screen goes dark. And Tony sits there confused as fuck until the wires connect and he’s saying  _ fuck again  _ because Steve is coming over and Tony only had the brain cells to change his boxers and not put on any other clothes. Not that it would be the first time Steve’s seen him in such a state of dress but it’s the principle of the thing!

That and he had to go to the door ASAP before-

The doorbell rings by the time Tony gets to the door. And the lock is turning and Tony’s  _ standing  _ there while Steve enters his house in his running outfit, slightly sweaty, earbuds in and grin wide and cocky.

“This is breaking and entering,” Tony says and he’s pretty impressed that he didn’t say what he was actually thinking which was,  _ damn Steve you’re really going to walk into my home looking like that and thinking that’s okay? Rude. Rude. Horrifically horrific.  _

Steve dangles a set of keys in front of Tony. “You’re the one who gave me a set of keys to your apartment, remember?”

“No.”

“You said, and I quote, to use this key in case I’ve texted you and you don’t respond back in under an hour. You didn’t, so I was forced to use extreme measures.” Steve shrugs. “So really you should be blaming yourself, not me.” 

Tony raises a finger in defense, “Okay so first of all I got busy. I am a busy man and this? This Saturday morning is a very busy morning!”

“You were in bed.”

“Doing  _ work _ .”

“Okay,” the way Steve says it sounds like he’s not convinced. The stubborn bastard. “You’re outta bed now though. And I’m here. And your place is much closer to the grocery store than mine is, so come with me.” 

If there was one thing Tony has learned from years of friendship with Steve is that he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. Once an idea got into his head Tony could rarely get it out. It’s why they butt heads too much. Because they were both stubborn as fuck with a tendency to make others bend, rather than bending themselves. 

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Tony narrows his eyes. He folds his arms across his chest. “You’re trying to make me be a normal human being and buy my own groceries.”

Steve’s smirk grows even more. The bastard. 

“Well you know what, Steve! It won’t work! It won’t work at all and there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind!” 

“Ok,” Steve shrugs and for a minute, Tony foolishly believes he’s admitted defeat. But then Steve’s pulling out his phone and shakes his head. “Guess I’ll just have to call Natasha and have her input on this whole thing-”

“You cruel son of a  _ bitch _ ,” Tony hisses. His hand reaches out and grabs Steve’s wrist. Steve has the audacity to try and look innocent. The  _ fucking  _ bastard. “You are not calling Natasha. Do you  _ want  _ me to have a death wish?”

“No. I want you to watch what’s in your meals and also, I want to hang out with you. We didn’t get to do that much last night. So I was hoping to get some time with you today. Watching your health is a bonus.” Utter sincerity coats Steve’s words. And that, that is what ends up doing Tony in. The threat to call Natasha was just the foundation of the cake. When Steve got honest and vulnerable, when he genuinely showed interest, that’s what made Tony’s heart squeeze. 

Tony holds Steve’s gaze for a few seconds more before relenting. With a sigh, he lets go of Steve’s wrist and starts heading for his bedroom. “I’ll go put on clothes.” he grumbles, stomping off. 

He doesn’t have to look back to know Steve’s still standing by the doorway triumphant. 

_ Distance _ . Right, he was doing  _ so  _ great at being distant. 

 

*

 

“Tony that’s expensive.”

“Okay, and? I’m rich.”

“Yeah but you shouldn’t buy it ‘cause of the price. Look at the brand! The quality!”

“Why wouldn’t the higher priced meat be the better quality, Steve? Make that make sense?”

Steve’s eyes were so far back in his skull, Tony worried they’d never come back out. Granted, he was being obtuse on purpose. Steve wasn’t about to drag him out into the human world of grocery shopping and have him be  _ too  _ compliant. Call it small gratifications. 

Steve makes a grab for the meat but he’s too quick. “It does make sense. It’s like buying a car. It’s not necessarily the most expensive and new model that runs the best.” 

“Yes it is. That’s always how it is.” Tony drops the meat in his cart and for good measure drops another, overpriced package of meat that he doesn’t even check right next to it. “My audi is brand spanking new, hella expensive, and runs like a dream.” 

“Yeah, but you’re also your own mechanic so it’s not like you need to pay any service fees. Also I’m not letting you out of this store with that meat.”

“Why are you BEATING UP MY MEAT?” Tony says loudly enough that shoppers nearby could hear. A satisfying grin curls on Tony’s lips seeing how red Steve gets at people’s reactions. Tony takes that moment to speed on by another aisle. “You don’t see  _ me  _ beating up  _ your  _ meat like that, Steve. So don’t come at mine!”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Steve hisses, easily catching up to Tony in a few strides.

“I know,” Tony grins. Steve rolls his eyes but he’s not mad. Not really. It took a lot to make Steve mad. Tired, yes. Irritated, a bit. But angry? Yeah no. And Tony’s special knack was to make people angry in a matter of seconds. Even when he’s in  _ a mood,  _ Steve’s been pretty patient with him and it took time for him to truly snap.

Which, on the mental subject, Tony remembers last night. How sour he got in a matter of seconds all because Steve offered to take him out to dinner with him and Sharon. Really, the worst thing to get upset about but it  _ had  _ set Tony off. He  _ did  _ take it out on Steve. And he knew Steve wouldn’t bring it up unless it absolutely bothered him but now that Tony was thinking about it? It was itching under his skin…

“Hey,” Tony starts off slowly while Steve was checking out two flavors of oatmeal. 

“Hm?”

“Sorry, for yesterday.”

Steve looks up, confused. Tony swallows and ignores the urge to break eye contact. Finally, Steve gets it. “Tony, it’s fine.” his smile is soft, warm, and it makes Tony’s insides curl into something awful. “I’m used to your moods. I didn’t take it personally. But I do appreciate the apology.” Steve crinkles his eyebrows. “Were you worried about that? Is that why you didn’t respond to me this morning?” 

_ No. I didn’t respond because I was trying to do distance and then the universe came in and screwed up all my plans.  _  Was what Tony feels. Instead, he says, “Ah, no. I really lost track of time and forgot to respond. My bad.”

“Typical,” Steve gives Tony a crooked smile. Tony offers a tiny one in return. The two fall into amiable peace after that. They get into their groove. Chatting, catching up about last night. Apparently Steve  _ did  _ see Tony, even when he left the bar with So...fie? 

“Sophia,” Steve corrected. 

“Great girl,” Tony grins. 

Their grocery shopping ends a little less dramatically. There’s no more arguments and when Steve doesn’t notice, Tony goes to switch out his meat for a less expensive alternative. They head to the checkout line which is Tony’s least favorite part about grocery shopping. Besides the actual  _ act  _ of grocery shopping. But the line moves pretty quick and soon they’re out, back in the sunshine. 

Tony slips on his shades and helps Steve pick up their bags. The walk back to his apartment would be about ten minutes if they speed walked, fifteen if they leisurely strolled. 

“Let’s take the long way,” Steve’s already  _ going  _ for the long way as he says it. 

“This is inhumane,” but Tony’s still following after him. “You know we have a lot of bags, yes?”

The long way was a little scenic. They’d have to cut through the park to get back towards the main route for Tony’s house. Steve knows Tony hates the park with a virulent passion. Way too many feral ducks, not enough animal management. The amount of  _ times  _ Tony has run away from those ugly beasts were far too many to be proud of. And Steve didn’t care! Not one bit! 

“A little physical activity won’t kill you, Tony.”

“I had all the physical activity I needed last night.”

“Oh. So you  _ did  _ sleep with her.”

“Yes. It was quite the time. Drunk Tony really set Sober Tony up for success.” 

“I wish you would stop saying that,” Steve says. As they walk through the park Tony notices a small shift in Steve. Like there’s something that he’s thinking about but not sure how to phrase it. Normally, Steve speaks whatever’s on his chest, without holding back. So the fact that he was hesitating to say something…

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Oh,” Steve blinks, as if being tugged back from his thoughts. Tony raises an eyebrow, blue eyes behind his shades tinged with questions. Steve bites his lip before speaking and then sighs. “Well, there was also another reason why I asked you to come with me today.”

Tony’s pulse spikes a bit. “And that reason is…?”

“I, okay. So, tomorrow is Sharon and I’s anniversary. It’s our two year mark so I wanted to do something special but,” Steve’s shoulders sags as he sighs, “I’m struggling to come up with ideas. I know she’s not someone who’s all for the fancy and flare, but I do want to do something special. I’m just… at a wall.”

In this moment, Pepper’s and Rhodey’s words come to mind. How distance would be the best for Tony if he wanted to finally put to rest the ache continuously growing in his chest. It spreads like a virus. Brutal, quick, and without mercy. He’s glad he put on his sunglasses, cause at first he put them on so he could steal glances at Steve under the guise of wearing them to protect his eyes from the sun. Now, they were great to hide the flashes of pain no doubt reflecting in his eyes. 

He hates this. He hates watching Steve ramble and get shy over Sharon. He hates that he  _ hates  _ this. He hates that literally, he could stop this right now. Take a step back. Make space for himself so he can finally move forward without every mention of Steve’s relationship adding jagged wires under his skin.

He hates that he’s even  _ considering  _ helping Steve. That it’s on the tip of his tongue to say yes. Tony would give Steve the world if he even muttered the wish. Tony would gladly give Steve  _ anything  _ and that, that was so dangerous. When he wasn’t even capable of doing the same in return for himself. 

“I was hoping I could bounce some ideas off you,” Steve continues. They’re walking finally brings them back to Tony’s doorstep. Tony’s been in and out, picking up key phrases and nodding tightly when needed. Steve doesn’t seem to notice the shift, or if he does isn’t choosing to comment on it. Sometimes, there are small mercies. 

“Me?” Tony somehow manages not to make his voice croak. He swallows. His head is buzzing again. “You know, Pepper’s more of an event planner. I’m very off the cuff and unconventional.”

“Right,” Steve nods. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. That’s kinda what I’m looking for. Something like that, if you have any ideas. If not it’s totally fine.”

“No,” fuck. “No, no. It’s-it’s cool. I just gotta think about it. Give me a few hours? I’ll get back to you?” his voice sounds hollow, at least to his own ears. But then Steve smiles at him and it’s so bright and wide. It makes the hollowness expand and heat travel across his body all at the same time. 

Steve hands Tony's grocery bags and they do a little exchange, “Thank you, Tony. Lemme know what you come up with. Again, it’s short notice so I understand-”

“I said I’d come up with something, yeah?” Tony smiles and it feels so tight. “I’m a genius, Steve. I’ll have a brilliant plan for you to use and take full credit of by tonight. No worries.” 

“If I didn’t have so many bags right now, I’d hug you.”

Tony forces out a laugh and presses his thumb to the keypad that unlocks his front door.  “And cover me with all that sweat? No thank you, Steve Rogers. I’ll pass. See you tomorrow!” he’s halfway in the door when Steve calls out, “You’re the best.” 

Tony shuts the door without responding. If Steve asks about it, Tony will blame his poor hearing skills.  _Not_ because he wants to create as much space between him and Steve as possible before he implodes. That's too embarrassing and degrading to admit. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this definitely ended up a little differently than anticipated , but i like how it ended. next chapter? will be a little messy and most likely a bit longer so stay tuned ! 
> 
> also i'm looking to connect with fellow marvel enthusiasts and writers ! i just made a twitter @jupiterkissed and a tumblr @sunnyburst so if you have any of those , would love to follow and talk or just scream about marvel nonsense . okay dope have a good day , wash your face , drink water , don't text that douche canoe you don't need in your life , challenge systematic oppression. all that good stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay ! i was planning to get this out sooner but writer's block had me by the neck. now I'M holding writer's block by the neck. get CUCKED.

“Lemme guess. You said yes, didn't you.”

Rhodey speaks like its pure fact. Uncontestable and known by the entire universe. He’s completely unphased by Tony’s story. Though Tony’s not sure whether he should be warmed by the fact that Rhodey knows him so well he’s not shocked anymore. Or pathetic _because_ he’s become so damned predictable.

He decides he’s gonna go with both.

“Of course. I’m a philanthropist in the making, after all. Hey!” Tony slams his thumbs hard on the buttons of his video game controller. He watches helplessly as Rhodey’s character finishes a fatal blow. Utterly eradicating Tony’s character in delightful bloodshed. “You cheated! You waited till I was emotionally compromised and attacked!”

Rhodey smirks, “Nah, you just suck at Mortal Kombat, dude.”

They’ve been playing  for hours. Immediately after Steve left Tony made a beeline for Rhodey’s house. He was on edge, twitchy, and head full of buzzing. He needed some grounding, and a solid slap of reality to his face.

One he could have gotten from Pepper, but she’d already done her job this morning. Tony couldn’t handle crawling back to Pepper after they _just_ finished their talk about him needing space. To go back to her then and there would have felt like a defeat.

He really couldn’t handle her withering look, mixed with disappointment and sadness, that would stain his thoughts after the fact. No, he was not about to do that to himself today.

At least with Rhodey, he gave it to him straight but without all the lingering. And all Tony was looking for was someone to reaffirm that he was being stupid and then call it a day. Which Rhodey did, multiple times during their Mortal Kombat Tournament that Tony was horribly losing.

“I hate the controls for this game!” Tony complains. “When I drop my video game the first thing to go is this stupid joystick.”

“Mr. Genius Mechanic Inventor can’t work his way around a joystick? Why is that _so_ funny to me?” Rhodey jokes.

“Literally choke and start up the game.”

“Yeah, okay.” Rhodey loads up the character selection screen and Tony picks the same character he’s been using for the past five rounds. He’s planning to hack into the game this time and cheat. Hence why he pulls out his phone but Rhodey kicks him. “We are playing _fair_ and _square_ Mr. I’m An Emotionally Constipated Dumbass Who Doesn’t Know When To Drop Feelings.”

Tony scowls, the kick making his leg burn but nothing more. “I preferred Mr. Genius Mechanic Inventor,” Tony sniffs.

“Yeah well, I’d prefer if you stopped thirsting after Steve but we both don’t get what we want. Do we?”

“Wow, you are getting _snippy_!”

“Yeah, Tony, a bit. I love you man,” Rhodey jams at several different buttons while Tony does his best to block and retaliate, “but you’re digging your own grave. I’m not sure what you want me to do for you that I haven’t already done at this point.”

“You haven’t given me any foot massages even though I keep asking you for them…”

“Because your feet are nasty and we’re not married. At least not in the legally binding sense.”

“I keep _proposing_ to you-”

“-No thanks.” Rhodey cuts Tony right off. “Seriously, you’ve already thought about this anniversary. You’ve already made the plans and probably all the calls before you got here. You don’t want to be stopped. You want to keep hitting at a cement wall hoping it’ll break but all you’re doing is banging up your fists and feigning shock when you see cuts and bruises on them. That’s not my problem. It’s _yours_ . And only _you_ can fix it.”  

Rhodey shrugs and performs a combo that Tony, by pure luck, evades. And then he hits him with a combo attack of his own that lands critical. It’s enough to get Tony the win for the first round and Rhodey hits the pause button to _really_ look at Tony.

Tony, despite the win, feels utterly loss. Like a wound, open and raw and aching hoping someone will put some attention on it. But he has the attention. He has all the tools he needs to address the wounds. But he won’t.  Rhodey’s right. He’s already made the moves to make Steve happy but at the same time he’s coming out broken and cut. It’s frustrating and annoying and he _needs_ to stop.

He could have anyone he wanted, irony aside. But something about Steve kept pulling him back. Maybe it was the fact that he _was_ so unobtainable. A prize Tony could never get no matter how many tricks out of his sleeve he pulled. It was aggravating as it was exhilarating. He really did feel incredible whenever he was around Steve. No one could get Tony mad in five seconds flat like Steve could. And then immediately have him busting a gut the way Steve could.

Steve made long nights suffering over work, easier. Steve made moments where Tony doubted himself and his worth, manageable. Steve made _feeling_ like Tony Stark-better. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, is probably...very unhealthy.

Tony scrubs at his face, sighs, and falls deeper into the bean bag chair. “I gotta let go.”

“ _Duh_.”

“No, I mean. I am-after this. After the anniversary. No,” Tony shakes his head at Rhodey’s pointed glare. “Don’t gimmie that look. I already committed and I’m not gonna flake before I finish what I said I would. After that…after the anniversary, I’m going to ghost.”

His voice feels raw. And suddenly his eyes burn. He feels Rhodey’s eyes on him and it makes everything a little more worse-a little more raw. So he focuses his gaze somewhere else until he feels Rhodey’s hand on his. He glances down, where their fingers connect. Rhodey’s not saying anything but the gentle squeeze he gives Tony speaks volumes. Tony nods his head slowly, top lip caught between his teeth. They sit like that for a while before Tony breaks the silence.

“Your hands are so soft, man. What sort of lotion do you use…?”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow, “Bath and Body works, yo. Shea butter all the way.”

“Fuck... I gotta invest.”

 

*

 

Sunday rolls around and Tony’s made about several new projects. He hasn’t slept since getting back from Rhodey’s place. He was too keyed up. Too many thoughts swirling through his head of how today was going to go. He already made the necessary calls and everything was set up for tonight. Tony’s plan was to go simple yet elegant. A romantic, candlelight dinner set in a botanical garden.

There would be live music. Catered food. Some fireworks to end the night off with a bang (no pun intended though Tony in his sleepless hysterics chuckled for five minutes thinking about it). And fairy lights, because apparently fairy lights were the _in thing_ for romance these days. According to Pinterest at least. The night would be perfect. Everything and anything they could want to make the night special would be there. All orchestrated by Tony’s greasy hands.

He had to stop a few times in his planning to take a shot of scotch. So he had something to burn off the rising edging of patheticness that kept crawling up the back of his neck. Now, buzzed to kingdom come and playing Uno with his latest creation-a robot with one functioning arm, he wondered, not for the first time why he was _such_ a dumbass.

“Hey! You can’t put a blue draw two on a yellow reverse, DUM-E!”  DUM-E whirred in response and slapped down a _red_ draw two instead. “Oh fuck you. I just made you but I’m already this close to-”

_INCOMING CALL FROM HOWARD STARK._

“...Fuck,” Tony’s relationship with his father is not Hallmark worthy. Or, maybe it was considering all the painful lows and very rare highs that came from their relationship.

Howard Stark was the CEO of Stark Industries. As it went, Tony was always expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and inherit the company. A song and dance he could never escape from. Expectations upon expectations were placed on his shoulders since a young age. You must be strong, Howard tells him. A stark’s spine is crafted by _iron._ No moments for weakness, blah blah blah. Tony wanted to combust every time he talked to Howard. His father had an incredible knack for making Tony feel sick to be in his own skin.

Tony let the phone ring for a few minutes longer. While DUM-E dropped their Uno game to begin a staring competition with Tony’s new musical roomba.

 _INCOMING CALL FRO-_ “Answer,” Tony calls out and suddenly the LED screen flashed Howard’s face. He’s face to face with his future, now. The set lines of age and fortune. Dark, cobalt eyes stared down at Tony and he feels immediately sobered and _small_ at the same time. He could never find warmth in his father’s eyes-no matter how deep or long he looked for them.

“What took you so long to answer?”

“I was,” there’s a crash in the background followed by DUM-E’s high pitched whir. Tony purses his lips. “I was busy, Dad.”

“Sitting around doing nothing? Unbelievable…” Howard, even on the LED screen, manages to showcase his overwhelming disappointment in Tony loud and clear. “I’ll keep this call brief. Wednesday we’re meeting for Lunch at the usual spot. Don’t be late. And dress appropriately this time.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to be snarky. Last time they met Tony, in a small act of rebellion, wore tight leather pants and a tank top featuring a random rock band on the front. Completely clashing with Howard’s three piece business suit. The internet had a field day about it. Someone captured the moment and plastered it all over Twitter. The trending hashtag that came from it was funny for about two minutes before Howard lost his shit.

But it was worth it .

Instead, he nods. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good, Dad.”

There’s another crash. Followed by a whirring noise. DUM-E’s in a fist fight with the roomba now. Tony has no idea how _that_ started but it’s the perfect excuse to go. Howard narrows his eyes so sharply Tony felt cuts appear on his skin. “ _Don’t_ disappoint me, Anthony.”

He cuts the call on that note. Leaving Tony feeling scraped out. “ _Don’t disappoint me, Anthony_.” he mocks.

DUM-E whirrs up beside him and offers a ball of lint in comfort.

“Really? The scotch is right there and you couldn’t have passed me that?” DUM-E buzzes again. Pushes up against Tony. Offers the lint and a gentle pat. Tony softens. “Alright. I hear you. I see you. Thank you buddy. Your warranty has just been extended.”

 

*

 

Tony’s going to hurl. He feels bile rising up in his throat as he keeps checking his phone. It’s almost 8 pm and Steve isn’t here yet. Nor is Sharon. Everything is set up perfectly. The garden looks immaculate. All the servers and their host for the evening are dressed to the nine. The live band is playing a jazzy rendition of _I’ll Be Watching You_.

It’s pure perfection. It’s romanticism in color. It’s…frankly it’s a really beautiful set up and Tony’s fully convinced he must be a romantic at heart deep down under all his trauma and commitment issues because the set up looks like everything came straight from a Disney movie.

He’d give himself a pat on the back if the situation wasn’t so laughable.

Who in their right mind sets up a beautiful venue for a once in a lifetime date so the person they’re crushing on can ultimately woo their significant other. Tony. Tony motherfucking Stark that’s who. The biggest idiot to ever be a genius. Or would it be the biggest genius to ever be an idiot? Maybe he should call Rhodey, figure out what order made the most sense and-

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Tony jumps when Steve appears. Dressed in a dark blue suit, white button down shirt with the top unbuttoned to expose his collar and khakis. The outfit hugs him in all the right ways. Shows off his broad shoulders and skinny waist and Tony, not for the first time, goes rigid at the sight.

He’s so handsome.

It’s so _unfair_.

“Wow, you clean up well. New suit?” Tony says once he can get his mouth working again.

Steve blushes. “Yeah. Bucky helped me pick it out. Said I couldn’t do Sharon a disservice by wearing the same old monkey suit I’ve had for years. Thank you.”

 _No thank you,_ is on the tip of Tony’s tongue but he burns that bridge before it connects. “Wow to think I’d agree with Barnes on something for once. Maybe the world is ending?”

“Feels like it. With increasing temperatures across the globe and the polar ice caps melting.”

“Holy fuck you are nervous. Making global warming jokes before your big night?” Tony laughs and debates, for a split second. Before moving. He steps into Steve’s space. He’s holding flowers-a big old bouquet of _tulips_ and one of the petals is on the lapel of his jacket. So he makes the excuse, of coming close. Of reaching out to touch-he can allow himself this. This one moment.

Steve raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment when Tony takes the petal from his blazer.

Tony flicks it away and smirks, “There,” he smooths out the lapel and leaves with two pats on Steve’s chest. “Now you look presentable. Also don’t be nervous. She loves you, man. This is going to be great. You guys are probs gonna have bomb sex afterwards and all will be grand. Why are you so twitchy?”

Steve’s eyes widen a fraction before they soften. He shakes his head, “You could always see through me better than most…” he pauses for a second. Exhales. “I’m thinking about giving Sharon a ring-God Tony don’t make that face it’s not like I’m proposing to her.”

What face? Tony reaches up to pat his own cheek. Ring. Ring. Ring. He’s going to give Sharon a ring. He’s going to pledge undying loyalty and absolutely solidarity. He’s going to give Sharon a ring. His love is so abundant and sure he wants to dedicate his entire being in the symbolism of a ring.

Tony can’t breathe. But he forces himself to. Fixes his face and forces out a laugh. “Fuck, Steve. You’re so old fashioned sometimes I forget you’re only a few months younger than me. I… a ring. _Wow_.”

Finally, a hammer to nail in the coffin appears.

“I’ve been thinking about it for months now. And tonight seems like the best night to do it. We’ll be graduating in the next two years and I know I can’t predict the future and that we’re young but when I’m with Sharon it’s… Tony. I can’t even describe it but it feels right. Good. I want to keep that, keep going for that, for however long I can.” Steve faces sets in a way that piledrives the ache forming in Tony’s chest a little deeper.

Here he is, a man so in love and so vulnerable and open. And it’s to Tony of _all people_. Tony Stark who, on campus, has gained quite the reputation for being egotistical and not much of a joy to be around. Someone you had to chip and chip until you finally got a real glimpse of his personality. Yet Steve never saw him that way.

Steve’s being open to him. Bearing his soul in front of rose bushes and ivy walls and a live band now playing _I’ll Wait For You_ by Elliot Yamin and Tony wants to set everything on fire. In hopes that the horrible ache now rooted so deeply in his chest he’s afraid it’ll never leave would _go away._

He smiles instead. Because he’s so good at crafting masks to hide the hurt. And pats Steve on the shoulder. “You’re a hell of a catch man. And so is Sharon. She’s going to love it. Which by the way, where is she?”

Steve nods and checks his phone. “She said she’s almost here. Only a few minutes. I’m going to meet her at the entrance. Are you going to be here for a bit? Just so I can let her know how instrumental you were in this?”

“Uh…” he sees her car rolling in. Sharon steps out wearing a dark green dress with her hair in a loose ponytail. Steve follows his gaze and Tony watches how his face transforms. His cheeks turn all rosy and his smile is so gooey. Tony sharply looks away back to Sharon. “Sharon!” he calls out.

She spots them over by the table. Her eyes wide and taking everything in as she walks over towards them. She stands, with one hand on her hip and flashes the boys a knowing smirk. “Tony, long time no see. Are you joining us for our date?”

“No,” Tony smiles tightly. “Steve won’t let me. Says it’s a special night for two.” he leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. “You look amazing by the way. A real dime piece! Do they say dime piece anymore. I heard it in a song once and thought it was making a comeback.”

Sharon barks out a laugh, affectionately pushing Tony away. “Let’s collectively agree that you never said that to me, hm? Steve,” her eyes turn soft. Her smile, softer. And Tony takes a step back as the two share space. Existing in one another’s worlds while he stands, an outsider. Taking in but never partaking. “This… is incredible. Are those tulips for me?”

“Picked them up along the way,” Steve smiles crookedly.

“An old charmer you are,” Sharon laughs and they share a kiss.

Tony takes his time to _go_ while he still has his sanity. “Alright. My job here is done. You crazy kids enjoy the night. Sharon make sure Steve’s in bed by 9 pm so he can get his full 8 hours of sleep! If he doesn’t he gets cranky!”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Tony helped set this up. The venue, music, setting, everything. Without him this wouldn’t be possible.”

“Really? Wow… Tony, thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.” Sharon says.

No he really didn’t have. And he really needs to dip. “What are best friends for? Exploiting the bank account of their rich best friend, that’s the answer. No worries, it was a pleasure. Now… I leave you too. Goodnight and _don’t_ call me.”

He turns on his heels as the band switches to some song Tony can’t recognize under the buzzing in his ears. And the rushing of his blood. And the dryness in his throat. Over and over and over again he tells himself this is it. This is the end.

 

*

 

Two weeks later.

_Tony I haven’t heard from you in a while. Did you misplace your phone again?_

Five days after.

_Tony I swear if you’re trapping yourself in the workshop I will forcibly extract you from your work and make you eat some food. Or be a human being in general._

Three weeks.

_Tony. . . how come neither Pepper nor Rhodey will tell me what’s going on with you. Where are you? You’re not in your room and your workshop is locked everytime I try to come in. Even when I use the override command you supplied me._

Four days more.

_Okay so you’re avoiding me. For some reason. Some reason I can’t-I don’t understand but, Tony. Please. If I did something wrong-if… if I fucked up lemme know I just-_

Today.

_Tony-_

Tony throws his phone at the wall and doesn’t look back to check on the pieces.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright ! so sorry again this was dELAYED . now tony's actually making moves to give himself distance but will it last long ! who knows haha ! thank you for all your kudos , comments , and bookmarks . they mean the world ! thank you for reading this story , i appreciate ! 
> 
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> if you wanna keep in contact follow me on twitter @jupiterkissed ^_^ !


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